Tag Archives: condescending

All Mouth and No Talk

I’ll break all my bones

And cash in all my luck

Before I force myself

To go and listen to such a

Condescending fuck.

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i heard he thinks he’s a god

I’m not looking for a savior, I have all that I need
And I don’t give a single fuck if god likes it or not
Your picture perfect legacy is quite so fucking disgusting
I put all my faith in your “one two three…”

~*~

your words are clean

but your mouth is dirty

and you have constipation

from your own numskull

if you’re so high, why are

your wings nonexistent

is it because you just need

to trample on the rest of us?

if you’re so heavenly, then

i’m prepared to go to hell

and congratulate the damned

for escaping your bullshit

‘cause if you think you’re all that,

then why don’t you go jack off

to the beat of your own chaste

fucking self-righteousness?

~*~

Be careful what you wish for
You just might get it
Set fire to your lungs and leave you
Choking on the ashes
You’re wasting all the oxygen
Blackballing but you can’t stop falling…

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Defying Deities

Oh, so that’s the manifesto, isn’t it

That the rest of us have to drag out

On our bloody and bruising knees

Just to reach you, just to touch you

Like a self-serving punctilious deity?

.

But has it ever occurred to you

That you’re just not worth it?

.

Because attempts aren’t enough, no

We have to break in the better side

Of us until you proclaim that we’re

Worth it, still refusing to get down

From the pedestal you built yourself

.

But has it ever occurred to you

That we just don’t give a fuck?

.

And if we were all to go beyond such

Immeasurable bounds of that declining

Reputation, for something that should be

Handed out freely in the first place, then

Why should we bother praying for your

Nonexistent grace, dying for a miracle?

.

But we should, we unquestionably should

Because you’re just that sacred, right?

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All Hail The King

Your cruelty clings to my broken wings
You wrote this in your scarlet letter
You’re a whore for feelings
A touch-me junkie scraping by the skin
Of someone who’s better…

~*~

It’s the way he carries himself

As if the world should bow to him

Each step a dramatic flair

With much regard and self-esteem

.

The way he looks down on people

Like he’s such a special case

With a practiced condescending sneer

Etched on his fist-worthy face

.

The way he degrades and consumes

Getting bites big enough to chew

When he has used and spat you out

He’s completely through with you

.

The way he thinks he’s all there is

And the universe on their shoulders is his

He’s got his friends, got his enemies

He’s got his plastic talent and camaraderie

.

And it’s the way he carries himself

As if he is the king of this whole damn thing

But he’s just a power-tripping man charged with treason

Prepped and ready for his final execution.

~*~

You’ve got it wrong, weakness is the body leaving pain
You like the way it hurts, the scar, the stain
You’re in the gutter, the kind of filth that makes me shutter
What you can’t change will remain the same…

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gospel

play god

and proclaim

it’s a mortal sin

we’ll see you

in hell when we

stop believing.

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Glass Shards Taste Sweeter Than Revenge

Cut off my wings and come lock me up
Just pull the plug yeah, I’ve had enough
Tear me to pieces, sell me for parts
You’re all vampires so here
You can have my heart…

~*~

you’re not worth

swallowing eggshells for

i wish i knew before i

digested all your bullshit

not everyone can spill

sunshine when they speak

and i’d rather die by my

own hand than your radiation

so take a fucking razor

and cut your palms open

just bleed the hell out

and drown all the demons

and pull yourself so far under

isn’t that what you always want?

don’t let the roses stop you

burn me out as you did

to those innocent paper towns

because i’m waterlogged anyway

you’ve no use for my pages

and yet you persist to write the

profanities and revilement

just to wipe condescension in

like your own twisted diary

i hope you’re happy now

from slashing my ankles simply

‘cause you got tired of this

if you can’t chase, no one can

honestly i’m glad you cut me off

though i may be crippled, at

least my conscience isn’t paralysed

my shame isn’t metastasised

i guess so long, goodnight, and

good goddamned riddance

hope you have fun stepping on

the glass shards i spit out for you.

~*~

So come rain on my parade, ’cause I wanna feel it
Come shove me over the edge ’cause my head is in overdrive
I’m sorry, but it’s too late and it’s not worth saving
So come rain on my parade, I think we’re doomed
I think we’re doomed, and now there is no way back…

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metal & skin (xxvii.)

fuck you

and your

high-flung

dramatic

opinions

you don’t

know shit

about all this

so just leave

me alone.

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Pious Condescension

The world does not revolve

Around you and your stupid ideologies

I’d convince you otherwise

But that would be scuffing my own knees

You see what there is to see

Because you’re always looking for the fault

And kvetch like a little bitch

When I shut you down like a deadlock vault

Shit, I hate to break it to you

But dear, your word isn’t the fucking gospel

You’re not a goddamn religion

And your holier-than-thou beliefs can go to hell.

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A Pontificating Performance

Today I fell and felt better
Just knowing this matters
I just feel stronger and sharper
Found a box of sharp objects
What a beautiful thing
Do you want a song of glory
Well I’m fucking screaming at you…

~*~

There isn’t a need to stick

Your sanctimonious wooden nose

High up and mighty in the air

For you reckon you’re so clever

And a marvellous timely troubadour

With your prevarications of despair

Oh, special, pretty, little white flower

The crowds adore your recherché

And a flounce of your plaited hair

But your hagiographic glass eyes and

Pinocchio nose impales mendacity

The audience bleeds whenever you share

Soon they will disperse haughtily

Leaving your stage in its desolation

And next time no one would give a care

So pray not be quite presumptuous

And see all sides of the icositetragon theatre

When you’re performing to be fair.

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Dämonkomplex

The demon hides his horns

And walks among the crowd

Thinking himself to be rarer

An angel among the beasts

Thinking he’s so clever to be

Concealing his horns, and he

Reckons he’s fooling them all

But he’s only just still demon

As dark as any other lurkers

The only thing that damages

Him is how he thinks he’s so

A transcendental entity who

Masks his horns with a smirk

Manipulating transparencies

“Darling, you don’t know me”

Yet he’s as mysterious as a

Clear pressed sheet of glass

And those angsty acts of his

It wields paroxysmal laughs

The angels can only pity him

Poor demon and his complex

For the only one he convinces

Is his foolish, delusional self.

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